strength – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Finding Comfort

I don’t know about you, but I hate the empty platitudes that are spoken when someone dies. When Bruce died, I remember people saying all the things… “He’s in a better place.” “God needed another angel.” “This is a blessing because <fill in the blank>.” I know people mean well… I understand that their hearts are in the right place, but… no… please, no!

Those phrases are not comforting… At least, not for everyone and definitely not for me. I was angry, and I was hurting. Those words only increased those emotions. Bruce and I were a match… at team… a pair. Life without him made no sense… Death made no sense. I was hurting… Shoot, most days I still hurt.

I know those platitudes are meant well. I really do understand that. But do the people who say them understand how empty they are when your soul is ripped in two? I doubt it, because if they did, I don’t think those words would ever leave their mouths.

So where do we find comfort? Where do we turn when the world is spinning out of control and our anchor is gone?

I have shared before that when Bruce died, I had just recently walked away from the church… not my faith, but the organized religion where I had practiced that faith for so long. I needed comfort from somewhere, and I had no idea where that would come from.

In hindsight, I can tell you that it came from those people who simply came and sat in my grief with me… no lectures… no platitudes… no toxic positivity… or religious-based guilt.

Let me give you just one example… I remember my sister simply sitting with me as I cried and holding me. She never offered empty platitudes. Instead, she validated my pain by moving into that space with me. She never ssh’d me or told me to stop crying. She never said that it would be okay or told me to move on. She didn’t expect me to meet her where she was… no… She came and met me where I was… and held that space with me… Because of her, I wasn’t alone. I may have felt alone… I may have felt abandoned… My pain was so great at that time I couldn’t past it to see her there. However, at this point, I can tell you that I was not alone… She walked beside me all the way… and still does.

What a gift! That was comfort.

“As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.”

~ Isaiah 66:13

To this day, I will tell whoever will listen that when she did that, I believe that is what God means when she says she will give comfort…

Verse after verse in the Bible talks about the comfort of God for those who are grieving. After all, even Jesus grieved when his friend died… In other words, God gets it! God knows death and grief hurt, and she hurts when we hurt. Just like my sister… or through my sister, God has always been there… The divine spark within each of us, and my sister choosing to use her divine spark and simply sit with me in my pain… Crying with me when I cried out… and holding me when I didn’t want to be here alone.

I remember being told by someone at the grief “support” group that I attended a few times that it was a sin to grieve. I don’t believe that… In fact, I think that is crap. I believe that grief and pain and death are all a part of the human experience. (period) It’s hard… and God gets it… over and over, she gets it.

God’s love comforts and sooths my soul. ~ The Daily Word, Feb 15, 2024

So, while it still hurts… and I still cry… I know I am not alone. God is here… within me as the Divine… and beside me flowing through my friends and family to comfort my heart. She is my strength… through each of these wonderfully, loving people… and I am so very grateful.

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

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Peace, Love and Grief… The Journey

“I cannot share thy journey, but I can walk beside thee.”
~ Diana Gabaldon, Written in My Own Heart’s Blood

When Bruce and I met and got married, I was still healing from 20+ years of domestic violence. It had left its tole, with a diagnosis of PTSD. On the outside I could smile and act like I had it together. However, there were many residual aftereffects that (try as I might), I couldn’t always control. It was not unusual to wake up in a panic with a need to just “get away.” I can also remember times when I just knew Bruce would be furious with me, because that was the only reaction I had known for too many years.

I’ve told this story before, but it seems appropriate to share it again today. We were in the kitchen cooking together – laughing and being silly. I poured Bruce a beer and went to hand it to him. Somewhere in the exchange, the beer left my hand, but missed his and ended up on the floor – a mess of glass and beer covering the entire kitchen floor. I looked at Bruce and completely panicked. I remember racing to the bathroom, locking myself inside, and sitting on the floor as I cried – terrified of what he might do.

After a few minutes, Bruce quietly knocked on the door and asked to come in. Hesitantly, I opened the door a crack… And he greeted me with a smile. Then he held his arms out to me, and I fell into them… So, relieved that this man was a man I could trust. After holding me for a while, we went back into the kitchen. He smiled at me as he poured himself another beer (in another glass) … Then, looking me in the eye, he held it out… and just let go. Beer and glass once more covered the floor. I was stunned! He, on the other hand, just pulled me close, as he reassured me that he loved me… always… no matter what… and he swore he would never hurt me… ever!

Days later as I shared this situation with my mother, she made the comment, “Bruce is not (insert ex-husband’s name).” She was right, and I would like to say that was all it took. I would like to say that I was fine after that… But learning to manage the memories and trauma of 20+ years can take a while. Bruce, however, never walked away… He was always there by my side. He couldn’t share what I had experienced, but he was determined to stay by my side as I figured out how to move forward.

I won’t lie. It took years before the nightmares and aftereffects were manageable… Then, not long after, I lost Bruce… In a breath, he was gone, and I found myself thrown back to those old terrors. Even once I thought I had my feet back under me, my ex contacted me with the same old verbal attacks and threatening language. My first reaction was one of panic. I sat in the middle of my living room – terrified. Then, it was like Bruce touched my soul to say he was still here… still by my side.

So, this time, I took action… action to protect myself. I knew I could do it, because Bruce taught me that I am worthy, and I am not alone. I know Bruce is with me… Still walking beside me. And whenever, I feel lost about what to do next, all I have to do is stop and remember…

Thank you, Babe!

It has been over eight years, and I still miss Bruce. I hate that he is gone. He changed my world and continues to do so every day. Because of him, I have had the tools I needed to survive this journey (so far). I have come to learn that this journey has a lesson built into every step and every breath. Thank you for the opportunity to share those with you. For all of us, it is easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
Please do… This is OUR community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

Peace, Love and Grief… Strong… Balanced

“Being strong isn’t necessarily being balanced.” ~ unknown

Whoa… Isn’t that the truth?! Since Bruce died, that has been my struggle… Trying to be strong and balanced. But so much of the time, I’m not sure how to do both. I know I have gotten stronger as time has passed, but I wouldn’t say I’m always balanced… Mainly because I know there are times when my answer to the challenge at hand might be stoic reserve, while other times my answer is tears. Often times, people see the quiet response as strength, and the tears as unbalanced, especially after so many years. Then again, to be vulnerable… to be honest about your emotions, doesn’t that require some strength too? So, which is it? Do I let the world be my compass, or do I go with my gut?

Last week I received some news that left me in tears… absolutely broke my heart. I have cried for days. I don’t understand how people can be so mean (for lack of any other word). All week, as I recall their words, I have cried – sometimes out loud and sometimes just in my heart… I haven’t responded to them or in front of them. What is there to say when someone else has made their point clear? Whether you agree or not, doesn’t really matter. They have said what they want to say. My choice is to argue or acceptance. I have chosen acceptance… Mostly because I learned that from Bruce.

While he would never back down from a conversation – an honest dialogue between two respectful people – people who truly listened to each other and cared. On the other hand, he was never one to waste his breath arguing with someone who wasn’t going to listen… Someone who had made up their mind and already shut the door on any conversation. Once again, his legacy… his person… his absolute being has given me strength and reminds me that my choice comes in my own reaction, and that is where I can find my strength.

Bruce was a quiet man. He always thought things through before he spoke. He made sure that whatever he had to say would make a difference. If not, why bother? Why waste your breath? It just isn’t worth the energy in those situations. When he was here, I didn’t always get it. I mean, I appreciated that he was so rational. But sometimes, I would think, “Just get it out,” “Say what you think,” “Go ahead… Put it out there.” While I hate an argument, sometimes waiting through the silence as he gathered his thoughts seemed worse… But it wasn’t… There was a lot of wisdom born in those moments.

I knew that was just his way… He was always comfortable with his own thoughts. If you really wanted a conversation, he welcomed it. If not, that was not on him, it was on you. I guess, now (seven + years later) I find myself feeling the same.

So back to the strength and balance…

Yes, there are still times when I feel myself being overwhelmed by waves of grief. And while I understand there are some people who are uncomfortable with that, it’s just not my problem… not really. In the years since Bruce’s death, I have gotten better at hiding those emotions, even from the people who are closest to me. I know I am much stronger than I used to be. I can manage those emotions. I can push them down deep inside and keep moving. Does that necessarily mean I am doing better? Am I stronger? Balanced? Honestly, what in the world does that even mean?

To tell you the truth, I have no answer. I do push my emotions down deep much of the time. I can move through life and act like all is well… That my heart was never broken… That my soul is whole. But… deep inside, I know better. And sometimes in the dark of night, I cry.

This week, this thing that happened left me feeling pushed aside… ignored… unwanted. Maybe it’s just me, but I really don’t think so. It’s just a hard situation. It hurts. I hate it. I want to fight it, I want to scream, but that wouldn’t change anything. Instead, I have taken the time to gather my own thoughts. I know that everyone makes their own choices, including me. I’m not angry at anyone… They will do what they do… And I will do what I do… And I will follow Bruce’s lead… Since I know I can’t change it, I just have to let it go. It is what it is.

For the rest of this journey without Bruce, I will have to face situations that are hard… Situations that break my heart. I can only do so much. I am only so strong. But when the day is done, I want to look in the mirror and say, “I am as strong as I can be (at this time). Whether others understand or accept this is on them, not me. I love them, and that is all I can do.” … Then, I have to let it go… And this is the strength that has given me the perspective to find some balance in a situation where I struggled to find either when it first happened.

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… What one person sees as strength; another may see as weakness. Where one person finds balance, another may struggle to gain any equilibrium at all. We are all different, and just doing the best we can in a world that can feel overwhelming at times. What about you? Have you managed to find strength and balance? Is it better some days than others? Do things happen that push you to the limits of your strength? Would you like to share your story or ask a question? Do you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug? Let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

Peace, Love and Grief… Don’t cry…

Don’t cry… Most of us have heard this all our lives. As a child when a favorite toy was lost… “Don’t cry.” When a pet was lost or your best friend moved… “Don’t cry.” As a teen, when your first love broke your heart… “Don’t cry.” And even as an adult when life throws you a curve ball… “Don’t cry.”

Don’t get me wrong… For the most part, I don’t remember hearing this in a reprimanding tone. It was always said gently and with love. It is a “normal” response, I suppose, when someone is crying. But, honestly, did it ever stop your tears? … Because it never stopped mine.

In fact, this week while watching TV, I heard a mother consoling her adult daughter with those exact words… and it made me think… Why? Why not cry? Why is it so wrong to cry as a response to hurt and loss? Why do we do that to each other?

I remember when Bruce died, people were patient with my tears for a little while… a very little while. After just a few short weeks, I started hearing the words “don’t cry” a lot. Most of the time it was said gently, and I knew it was meant to console. However, there were others who, I believe, were simply uncomfortable with the tears… or truly felt that it was downright wrong to cry. I heard it stated so many ways, such as:

“Don’t cry. You’re not the only one to ever lose someone.”
“Don’t cry. If you have faith, you should believe he’s in a better place.”
“Don’t cry. You can choose to feel better or have a better attitude.”
“Don’t cry in the office or in public. It looks weak.”
“Don’t cry. Be strong.”
“Don’t cry. What will others think?”

Good grief! What will others think? Wouldn’t they think I am sad because my husband died? Is that so bad?

If you listen closely to each of these reasons not to cry, shame is at the core. Which makes me wonder why shame become the tool used to dispel grief? What a crazy place this is when we believe there a time limit to tears of grief, and anything beyond that “limit” is wrong. Research has shown us that it is unhealthy to avoid or deny our grief. Yet, society still charges down the “be tough or be shamed” path.

I understand that my tears and grief may make some people uncomfortable, but maybe that is not my responsibility. Maybe that discomfort is created because in our culture most of us have never learned how to deal with grief. Instead. it is treated like a taboo topic… something that is definitely expected up to a point as ling as we don’t get carried away. If one grieves “too long,” shame will begin to seep into the picture.

Honestly, I have been frustrated for a long time with the reality of pushing my feelings down deep in order to make others more comfortable. However, it wasn’t until these last few weeks that I finally realized this shame aspect and how efficiently it works.

My first realization happened with my grandson. We were having a simple conversation about his day when suddenly he burst into tears about a recent loss that cuts deep into his core. We were in the car, and there wasn’t a lot I could do in the moment. As I reached out to hand him a tissue, I ALMOST said it… “Don’t cry, Baby. It will be okay.” But as the thoughts were forming in my mind, I stopped.

No… That was not what I wanted to say, nor what I wanted him to take away from our encounter. Instead, I told him, “It’s okay to cry, Baby. I know it hurts. You go ahead and cry… I’m here with you.” He’s only 7 so the tears didn’t last very long. Hopefully, however, he will remember that his feelings are valid, and it is okay to grieve his loss. As for me, all I could think was how I wished more people had allowed me that small bit of space… space to cry and grieve for a few moments when the pain of my loss crossed my heart.

My second (and more eye opening) realization came a day or two later. I was having one of “THOSE” days… One of those days when I missed Bruce beyond words. One of those days when the pain and grief felt all new and fresh, as if it had happened just yesterday. A day when I would have given my soul for just one more hug… one more smile. .. one more moment.

Yet as sad as I felt, I got up, got dressed and forced a smile to my face as I walked into my office. Only those closest to me could tell something was “off,” and only one or two actually knew what it was. As the day progressed and my mood started cycling lower and lower, I found myself shoving my emotions further and further down and trying to smile that much more. “Don’t let them see your pain today,” I thought. “Don’t cry.”

And I didn’t… Instead, I waited until I was alone in my car heading home… I waited until I felt “safe.” However, when I finally gave myself “permission” to cry, I found I couldn’t… not really. I was sad and I needed to work through all that stuff I had been shoving down all day, but somehow I still couldn’t allow myself to let go. Instead, I was talking myself out of it.

What if someone called and could hear it in my voice? What if someone saw me?
Then it hit me….Oh my gosh! I had let the shame behind all those “don’t cry’s” become so accepted and ingrained, I was doing it to myself! That was nuts! Good heavens! What shame is there in grieving? I know better! I know all those “don’t cry’s” are wrong. Instead, of “don’t cry,” we need to say…

“Go ahead and cry. This hurts… You’re the only one to ever lose this person in this time.”
“Go ahead and cry. Faith has nothing to do with it. God will hold you and comfort you. He understands your pain.”
“Go ahead and cry. You can choose your attitude, and today it is perfectly okay to choose feeling sad. You can choose to feel better or have a better attitude another day or another time.”
“Go ahead and cry in the office. It is not weak… It is honest and vulnerable… That takes real courage.”
“Go ahead and cry. That takes real strength.”
“Go ahead and cry. Who cares what others may think?”

This lesson has taken me a while, but I have finally realized that it takes more strength and courage to be honest about my grief than to hide it. There may even be a lot of people who will disagree… But I would bet most of them have never walked one step (much less a mile) in my moccasins (as the saying goes).

So… If there is one thing I have learned from all of this “don’t cry” business, it is this…

It is okay and normal to express grief with tears. It takes courage and strength to lay it out there for the world with no apologies. So… if you ever find yourself consoling someone or being consoled, drop the “don’t.” Instead,…

Go ahead and cry…

What about you? Did anyone ever tell you “don’t cry?” Are you still struggling with the shame of grieving past society’s “approved time limit?” Do you need support in that area? Or would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

Peace, Love and Grief… Another First

How do I live without your love?
One breath at a time…
~ Linda, December 28, 2013

After 2.5 years, I thought I had hit all the “firsts” associated with losing Bruce. However, this week I find myself facing another. My 35th high school reunion is this weekend. I’ve only been to one other… 5 years ago, when I attended my 30th reunion.

I went alone back then because Bruce had to work. However, going alone when you are married and madly in love with your husband is very different than going alone as a widow. To say I am feeling intimidated would be a huge understatement.

Don’t get me wrong… I was also nervous five years ago. In high school, I had been the straight-A nerdy kid who sat quietly in the front row. I had not been in contact with most of my classmates and I had no idea what to expect. Going alone was nerve-racking but Bruce helped instill such a “you-can-do-this” attitude (plus one of my daughters traveled and stayed in the hotel with me), so I didn’t mind pushing myself past my comfort zone.

I am so glad I did, because I had a blast! Five years ago, I met people I had never hung out with before, but my class seems to be a tight-knit group and everyone was wonderful!

When the talk on Face Book started about this reunion, I decided right away, I wasn’t going… not alone… not as a widow. I convinced myself that (a) I was too busy to spend 14 hours driving just to spend a few hours spent at a reunion; (b) I didn’t need to spend the money, etc. This list went on and on. (I can be the queen of excuses when I choose to be.)

Then, life started nudging me. The excitement between my classmates on Face Book started growing. (And I remembered how much fun I had five years ago.) Somehow in the class I am training this week, reunions came up. In the conversation, I mentioned mine and stated I wasn’t going. When they asked why, I tried to explain myself to this group of young adults and found myself stumbling… I didn’t really have a good reason.

After all, as a life coach and mentor, I knew exactly what I was doing. I was avoiding… I was running away – something I always do when I am down-to-my-core scared…

What was I scared of? Scared of going alone, scared of being treated different, scared of not fitting in, scared of being left on the edge – looking in – watching everyone else have fun… just plain scared of the whole thing.

Let me explain.

I’ve learned to go lots of places alone – most places actually. Sometimes that turns out okay and sometimes it is downright bad. It seems to depend on the connection I have with the people I am with. Sometimes I am treated like everyone else and I have a blast. Other times, there is an awkward energy and I feel like a fifth wheel. What if this is one of those awkward times? What if…

I know it probably sounds silly. But even so, these feelings are real… I have to deal with them. If I am honest; if I want to keep growing and moving forward, I need to face my fears, not run away from them… again. I’ve been working on this since Bruce passed… and here it is again.

So you know what I did, right?

I called my son and asked if he wanted to take a weekend trip with me! LOL! Yep, I’m going… but I’m taking some support. I don’t need him to go to the reunion. I just need him close by in case I need a hug… or a shove. : )

Yes… I am well aware that I needed Bruce to be close by on my first KW trip, and my daughter on my first class reunion… and now my son on my first reunion as a widow. I’m okay with that… The bottom line is I’m going. That is huge right now!

And now, the rest of the story…

So I went… I can’t say it was the best night of my life, (no one’s fault… just my own nerves) but it wasn’t the worst either. My son was great encouragement before I left… offering several times to go with me since I was so anxious. As tempting as his offer was, I knew I needed to do this alone. So off I went…

Pushing myself out of the car was a little hard, but I did it. I walked in alone, and I waited in the line alone. I talked to a couple of people, but I couldn’t find my group of friends I was supposed to meet there. Over an hour passed. I felt so out of place… and I started to lose it.

I could feel the tears behind my eyes. What was I thinking? Why did I think this was a good idea? I decided to leave and walked out to my car.

Once safely inside and away from public view, the tears flowed… I couldn’t stop them. All I could think was how much I hate this. I hate the way I feel without Bruce… I hate the way my self-confidence can plummet for no reason at all.

I can’t tell you why, but as I sat there, I started coaching myself… I started telling myself the things I would tell my clients. I won’t go into detail, but within 15 – 20 minutes, the tears were done, and I was headed back inside with a new attitude.

I still felt conspicuous… I still felt like people were staring at me like I have 2 heads, but I just smiled, said hi and kept plowing on. I approached people and talked to them instead of waiting for them to approach me. (NOT my comfort zone!) And, thankfully, it didn’t too long until I found my friends. : ) (Yay!) The rest of the night was spent laughing with my high school girl friends.

My victory? I stayed. I didn’t run away. (That was HUGE!) And I not only survived, I proved something to myself…

When I remember to have faith in myself, I am stronger than I think.

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief